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Good News, Dammit. GOOD NEWS.

I am committed to good news today. GOOD NEWS, you hear that, universe?

I’ll start with our IEP meeting. It went pretty well. I am cautiously optimistic. I will blog about it two months from now. It is probably unbloggable until then. Thanks to everyone who sent good wishes, virtual hugs, and caffeine.

It didn’t go well. There was a lot of barf involved and eventually we just gave up and waited for him to get better. He absolutely cannot take liquid antibiotics. This time I was smart and remembered to tell the doctor that he needed an alternate delivery method. This turned out to be a gigantic capsule that we can sprinkle in food.

But what food? We tried ice cream last night and it didn’t go awesome. Evidently antibiotic powder isn’t a good additive to a milkshake. But he drank it. Dose one of twenty. Hooray.

This morning I decided to try something different: antibiotic powder in a spoonful of peanut butter and honey.

Guess how that went.

Alex and Quinn ended up in a face off in the kitchen, with Quinn retching and gagging. It didn’t look like dose two of twenty was going to get taken. But then, the clouds parted and an idea floated down. “Sugar,” said Quinn. “Sugar.”

Quinn regularly asks for sugar. It’s not really a surprise that he would think of this.

Alex was all, “Yeah, right, kid, I’m not going to feed you sugar,” but I had no such high standards. I grabbed the sugar box and mixed a big ol’ spoonful right into his peanut butter, honey, and antibiotic paste. I might have started to sing about a spoonful of sugar, which pissed Quinn off mightily, but he started to eat. The sugar trick worked for his evening antibiotic milkshake as well.

Stimey believes rodents are funny, autism may be different than you think, and that if you have a choice between laughing and crying, you should always try to laugh—although sometimes you may have to do both.